Crossover
by Angelamermaid
Summary: Cristina from my alternate-universe changes places with post-Season 8 Cristina.
1. The Switch

**In the Other**

Cristina yawned as she entered the front door of the house. Peering into the living room, she saw Owen reading something on his laptop.

"You didn't have to stay up for me," she murmured, putting down her briefcase.

"I wanted to talk while the kids were asleep," he said, shoving the computer aside.

"I haven't changed my mind," she informed him, sitting down. "You want to go on the trip, go without me."

"We can't have a family vacation without you," Owen pointed out. "There will be other conferences."

"Harper Avery asked me to deliver the keynote address himself. You don't turn down opportunities like that. Well, _I _don't."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you still mad that I turned Mercy West down?"

"I wouldn't say 'mad', Cristina rebutted. "I just don't understand you sometimes. You could've been their Chief of Surgery and have so much more influence -"

"And my beard would be whiter and I'd have less time for the family. Which includes you."

"I know we're a family," Cristina retorted. "But I'm also a surgeon."

"I never said you weren't." Owen sighed and stood up. "You are the great Cristina Yang, who never surrenders and never compromises."

"I compromise! I let you pick out the new paint colors for our bedroom!"

He made a face. "Do you even hear yourself? You 'let' me. You really didn't care about the paint."

"Owen!" She stared at him. "Why are we doing this? Why have we been fighting for the last month?"

"Because we're working too much," he told her, gruffly. "We've been on opposite schedules for too long which is why we need to take a vacation. And we agreed that we would take one, and then you bailed at the last minute, to kiss Harper Avery's ass." With that, he turned and went upstairs.

"Men!" Cristina pulled out her phone and quickly checked her messages. "Lexie wants to set up a coffee date when she comes to Seattle next week. So she can whine about her stupid ex-husband, I bet. I'll be 'busy' that day."

She stood up and stretched, before going upstairs. Quickly, she checked on the children. Diego was sound asleep and clutching his favorite blanket. She smiled softly. He was growing up so fast, soon he'd be leaving his crib behind.

Moving quietly, she next checked on Mallory. Her younger daughter was sprawled under her brightly patterned duvet, her long red hair splayed out on her pillow. Asleep, Mallory's face had a calm serenity that she rarely displayed while awake.

Next, Cristina peered into Chloe's room and saw a telltale light under the blanket. She smirked, before coughing loudly.

Guiltily, Chloe pulled back the blanket, exposing her tablet. "Sorry, Mom. I just had to know how the chapter ended."

"I know! But you need your sleep, you have that Science test tomorrow." Cristina extended her hand.

Sighing, Chloe gave her the tablet, then settled into bed. "Good night."

"Good night."

"Okay."

Chuckling, Cristina turned the tablet off and put it on the nightstand. She remembered how her own mother would catch her reading books under the blanket with a flashlight. Yawning, she left the room. Sometimes she wished her mother was still alive, so they could laugh over the memories.

After a shower, she climbed into bed. Owen was already asleep, his back to her.

She sat and watched him for a few moments. She hated their rare disputes, when they were out of sync. Why did he keep forgetting how much her career meant to her?

Shaking her head, Cristina laid down and turned her back to him. What was really annoying was – he had a point. They'd agreed on the vacation together. And it couldn't be rescheduled – Chloe had soccer camp and Mallory had art workshops lined up and Owen's mother was going to take the girls on a trip to California to see Saul. They had one week free for the whole family, and she'd changed that with one phone call from Harper Avery.

_How did I ever end up like this?_ She wondered. _My life was supposed to be about surgery. Now I've got a sulking husband and three kids to plan my career around._

**In the Now**

Propped up in her bed, Cristina rolled her eyes as her mother fussily laid an afghan over her. "Mom, I'm fine."

"You were in a plane crash a few days ago," Helen reminded her. "You had hypothermia when they found you, Owen said you were blue. So I'll make sure you're nice and warm."

"I know what happened." Cristina pointed to her left shoulder. "This didn't just happen from me tripping on a curb." She winced, as she flashed back to the sensation of falling from the sky, as objects and people went flying.

"A mother always has to take care of her baby." Helen quickly placed a hand against Cristina's cheek. "Owen just got home with the groceries, so I can make you some supper."

"Okay."

"Hey." Owen appeared at the foot of the bed. "Helen, I found everything on your list. The bags are on the counter."

"Thank you." With one last pat on Cristina's hand, Helen left the room. Quietly, he slid the doors shut, giving them some privacy in the firehouse.

"How are you doing?" Owen asked, sitting down on the other side of the bed.

"I'm being smothered. Tell me again why my mother is here," she snapped.

His face fell. "I thought she'd like to know that her only child had been in a crash. And if I hadn't told her, she would've seen it on the news. I didn't call her to torture you."

Cristina felt guilt lash through her. Of course he was only doing what he thought was right. And she was criticizing him for it.

Her eyes roamed his face. She hated how guarded his face was. She hated that even though she'd chosen to convalesce in the firehouse, it didn't really feel like it was their home. Not with so much unsaid between the two of them.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sore and taking it out on you when you have a hospital to run."

Owen's face softened a little. "Do you need anything?"

"I just took something for the pain," she said. "I'll feel better after I get some sleep." They fell into another awkward silence.

"I've, uh, got to call Richard. Check on things. I'll be back." He stood and walked out, as if to escape the awkwardness between them.

Sighing, she stared at the ceiling. Meredith had wanted her to convalesce at her house, but Cristina had declined. With her mother flying in, it made more sense to be at the firehouse. And despite their problems, she wanted Owen close by. He was always good in a crisis. The crash had left her very confused about her priorities and once again, she was undecided about what she wanted to do.

Cristina looked at the empty side of the bed, before closing her eyes. _How did I ever end up like this?_

oOoOo

In a dreamlike state, Cristina moved through mists, unable to see anything. She peered at the grey nothingness all around her as she moved in what she hoped was a forward direction.

It seemed as if a shadowy figure passed close by. She called out. "Owen? Are you there?"

**In the Other**

_When she came out of the fog, she was flying through the air, surrounded by debris. But when she landed, it was somewhere warm, instead of the cold damp ground of the forest._

"Cristina?"

She moaned and pulled a blanket over her head, as Owen gently shook her shoulder. "What?"

"I gotta go to work early, multiple car crash."

"Okay." Sleepy, she kept her eyes closed. "Have fun."

"I'll see you later."

"Uh huh." Cristina laid there for a few moments, slowly waking up. She frowned, remembering bits of a dream. About being lost in a fog and the crash and the pain...

Her eyes flew open. She was lying on her back. Her left shoulder didn't hurt. Experimentally, she moved her arms – there was no pain.

"Owen?!" Cristina threw back the blanket and sat up in the bed, breathing rapidly. She blinked to find herself in an unfamiliar bedroom. "What the hell?"

A small red-haired girl ran into the room. "Hey, you're up! Can we have pancakes for breakfast?"

Cristina stared at her. "Who are you?"

**In the Now**

_She stumbled when she walked out of the fog. She landed somewhere soft, but there was pain..._

Vaguely, Cristina became aware of a dull ache in her left shoulder. The ache began to throb and became more painful. She opened her eyes and frowned. She was looking at an unfamiliar fireplace.

Hissing, she sat up, mindful of her shoulder. Stunned, she looked around the unfamiliar room. _Where the hell am I? What happened?_

"Good morning!" Her mother stepped into the strange room, carrying a breakfast tray, and looking very much alive. Cristina gaped at her, before screaming.

**In the Other**

"What?" The little girl frowned at Cristina. "I'm me."

"What's your name?

The strange child stared at her. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Yes, in the crash." Tentatively, Cristina touched her left shoulder, still miraculously uninjured.

The girl's eyes widened. "What crash?"

"I ... was in a plane crash?" Cristina looked around. She didn't appear to be in a hospital, just someone's house.

"In a dream?" The child looked very confused. "I don't understand, Mommy."

_'Mommy'_. Shocked, Cristina took in the details of the girl standing in front of her. She was wearing a lime green t-shirt with purple pajama bottoms. Her hair was long and tangled, and the exact shade of Owen's. Her eyes ... her eyes were as brown as Cristina's and were vaguely Korean...

"Hey." A taller girl entered the room, reminding Cristina of herself at a younger age. "Are you going to make breakfast or should we just get cereal?"

Stunned, Cristina clutched the blanket closer to her. "_Huh_?"

**In the Now**

Panicked, Cristina leaped from the bed and ran to the nearest door, which opened into a bathroom. She slammed the door shut and locked it. Breathing heavily, she leaned against it.

"Cristina?" Helen knocked on the door. "What's wrong?"

Her heart pounding, Cristina stepped away from the door. _This can't be happening._

"Did you have a bad dream?" Her mother's voice was full of concern. "Open the door."

"What happened?" She could hear Owen on the other side of the door.

"She woke up and screamed and ran into the bathroom," Helen explained.

_Owen_. Just the sound of his voice was a relief. Cristina leaned against the door again, her hand tentatively reaching for the lock.

"Owen?" She called out.

"I'm here." He jiggled the doorknob. "Cristina, what's going on?"

She briefly closed her eyes. "I ... I don't know. This is all wrong." She looked around the strange bathroom. "Where are we?"

"What?" Owen sounded confused. "We're home. In the firehouse."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

He jiggled the doorknob again. "Please, Cristina, come out. We're worried about you."

"I've got your breakfast ready!" Helen called out.

Cristina ran her fingers through her hair, trying to orient herself to her surroundings. "I don't understand." Fear gripped her. "Where are the kids? Are they okay?"

Silence. Finally Owen spoke. "What kids?"

Wildly, Cristina looked around the bathroom for another door. There wasn't one.

Hesitantly, she stepped in front of the mirror. And gasped. Her reflection was of a younger self. Her hair tumbled down her back, like it was before she'd had children. She'd started keeping it at shoulder length after Chloe began to grab handfuls of her hair.

Shaking, she lifted up her shirt and examined herself in the mirror. She saw the light scar from the icicle, and recent cuts and scratches. Her stretch marks were gone, as well as her C-section scar. There was no denying it – this body wasn't the one she had gone to bed in.

She spotted Owen's watch by the sink. Hands trembling, she picked it up and looked at the date. _This can't be ... _

The room tilted, and she slowly collapsed, until she was lying on the floor, blinking at the ceiling, while Owen pounded on the door and Helen called out for her.

**In the Other**

Dazed, Cristina got out of the bed. She followed the girls downstairs, to a cozy kitchen. The older girl got out bowls and poured cereal for them.

Trying to appear casual, Cristina poured herself a cup of coffee, and went into the living room. She paused when she saw a playpen. A little brown-skinned boy was standing up inside it, smacking his hands on the fabric sides. He grinned at her and gurgled. "Ma-ma."

"You've got to be kidding," Cristina muttered. "How many of you are there?"

"Hey there, little dude!" The red-haired girl leaned into the playpen and hugged him. "Do you want Mommy to put you in your high chair now?" He grinned and raised his arms.

Cristina put down her mug and lifted up the boy. Hoping she didn't look clueless, she walked around until she spotted his high chair in the dining room. She buckled him in, as the older girl brought him a bowl of Cheerios. Happily, he began to feed himself, as Cristina shrank back and watched the children.

**In the Now**

Cristina knew that she must have passed out. Because her mother had been alive again and Owen was now bending over her, eyes full of concern.

She smiled to see him. "I had the strangest dream," she murmured. "My mother was alive. She brought me breakfast."

He looked puzzled. "Your mother isn't dead."

"Here I am!" Helen stepped into her field of vision. "You must have hit your head!"

Cristina stared at her. "Huh?"

"In the crash!" Helen clucked and stroked Cristina's face.

Stunned, Cristina looked at Owen for an explanation. She became acutely aware that she was still in the strange bathroom, instead of their house. "What happened? Where are we?"

"We're in our bathroom at the firehouse," he explained, worry etching his face. "Are you seeing double? What are your symptoms?"

She did a quick mental inventory of her body. "My left shoulder hurts."

"I've got your pain medication here." He held up a bottle. She quickly read the label. "Do you think you can sit up to swallow the pill?"

"I don't think I should take any codeine right now." Wincing, she sat up with his assistance. Quickly, she glanced at her mother, wondering at the hallucination in front of her. "What crash?"

"The plane crash last week," Owen explained patiently. He rubbed her good shoulder.

Cristina shook her head. "I ... don't remember a plane crash."

"It's probably best that you don't," Helen said, kindly. "You must hit your head when you passed out in here."

Curiously, Cristina looked at Owen. There was something radically different about him. He looked ... cautious. A bit distant. And he looked older and sadder.

"Are you sure there are no kids here?" Cristina blurted out.

He flinched. "I'm sure."

"Maybe she means the kids that were playing outside yesterday?" Helen mused. "They were really noisy."

"Do you want to go to the hospital?" Owen asked Cristina. "Get your head checked out?"

"I don't know," Cristina said. "Is Derek on duty?"

His eyes widened. "Derek is on short-term disability leave. He was in the crash too and his left hand is badly damaged."

"You really don't remember?" Helen asked.

"I don't understand." Frustrated and in pain, Cristina's eyes filled with tears. "I don't know what crash you're talking about and the wrong people are here."

Owen's eyes were gentle as he moved so that he could sit on her right side. Gingerly, he put his arms around Cristina. Grateful for the familiarity, she leaned against him and clutched at his t-shirt. He made soothing noises as he stroked her hair.

"There was an accident last week," he said, softly. "You were flying to Boise with others, to assist in separating conjoined twins. The plane crashed, possibly because it hit a flock of birds. You hit your head and your shoulder was dislocated. Meredith, Mark and Arizona were also injured. You were all half-dead with hypothermia by the time the rescue team found you."

"He was there," Helen added. "He called me then talked his way onto a helicopter."

"There's more," Owen said gently. "Lexie was in the crash. She died from her injuries."

"Oh shit," Cristina muttered.

"I've arranged for Richard to cover me for this week," Owen told Cristina. "I'll be here for when you need me."

"Good." Cristina snuggled against his chest. "I'm sure the Pit will be fine without you."

"Oh, Bailey's covering the Pit. Richard is the acting Chief."

Cristina raised her head. "Acting? Oh, because Derek's hurt?"

"No." Owen stared at her. "_I'm_ the Chief of Surgery for Seattle Grace-Mercy West."

The room tilted again, as Cristina realized that she was definitely a stranger in a strange land.

**Author's note: bad ass beta reading performed by lovemesomeowen. To be continued soon!**


	2. Aftermath

**In the Other**

Cristina found a bathroom on the first floor of the house. She locked the door and then leaned against it for a moment, before she looked in the mirror. Her face was older and her hair was shorter, but she could recognize Cristina Yang. Steeling herself, she lifted up the strange t-shirt that she was wearing and looked at her reflection. She had stretch marks on her belly and breasts, and a C-section scar.

The room wobbled a bit. She looked again. Her body was a bit fuller, more rounded, as the result of having children. She was definitely still hot.

"What the hell happened?" Cristina asked her reflection. "Is this the future?"

**In the Now**

Stoic, Cristina allowed herself to be guided back into the strange bed. Her mother brought her the breakfast tray, while Owen made some phone calls. Mechanically, she ate and tried to figure out this strange new reality.

**In the Other**

Wondering what to do, Cristina went into the living room. The young girls came thundering down the stairs, dressed in school uniforms and carrying backpacks.

"Bye Mom!" The taller one kissed her on the cheek before following the red-haired one out the front door. Cristina stood at the window and watched them board a school bus.

Cristina checked on the little boy, who was still feeding himself. She found a briefcase that looked like it could be hers. She pulled out a phone and checked the date – she was definitely in the future. On a very freaky Friday.

Next, she looked at her calendar - she was scheduled to work later. Without hesitation, she texted Owen. _"Not feeling well, I'm going to stay home today."_

Curiously, she looked around. It was a nice house. She went upstairs and investigated the bedrooms. One bedroom was very neat and tidy, and was decorated with an alarming amount of pink. "I have a daughter that likes _pink_?" She shook her head and looked into the next bedroom. It was a complete maelstrom of clothes and toys, a mess that she could relate to.

She frowned. How had Owen ever persuaded her to have a child after the abortion? Let alone three? Hearing the little boy calling, she walked downstairs. She checked his diaper before putting him back into the playpen. He sat down to play with some toys.

Cristina wandered around the first floor. She found two home offices. The disorganized one had to be hers. She looked at a plaque on the wall – the Harper Avery award. So she was still a surgeon – and an awesome one.

She looked around at some of the other awards and deduced that she hadn't gone to Mayo after all. Cristina felt a pang inside at that realization. Lost in thought, she moved on to the next room.

She hit paydirt in Owen's office. He'd framed someone's school project, a family tree entitled "My Family". She looked at the children's names and birth dates. Chloe. Mallory. Diego. The last also had an adoption date.

"I knew it," she said aloud. "That kid doesn't look like either of us."

She looked at some of the other names and dates and her blood went cold. Her mother was dead.

**In the Now**

Owen helped Cristina settle herself on the couch, carefully adjusting her pillows. She looked around with some interest. It was a gorgeous space, although the fire pole would be impractical with children around. A lump rose in her throat as she thought of her missing family. Why was she here? How could she get back home?

"Do you want your medication now?" Owen asked.

"Yes." She rubbed her shoulder, which was really aching. Her mother brought her a warm pack and then Owen brought her a pill with a glass of water.

"I'm, um, going into work to check on matters," he said. "Make sure Bailey and Richard are on top of everything."

"Okay," she said softly. She wondered again at the distance between them. What was the other Cristina like?

Helen moved into her field of vision. "Do you need anything?"

Cristina tentatively smiled. It felt good to see her mother again, even under the strangest of circumstances. "Why don't you make us some tea? We can sit and talk."

Her mother was surprised but pleased. "I'd like that."

**In the Other**

Cristina wandered back into the living room. She examined the bookshelves and spotted a digital photo frame. She turned it on and watched scenes from another life. There she was, dressed in a cream suit and visibly pregnant, standing next to Owen who was wearing his uniform. She frowned. Did they renew their vows?

The pictures weren't in chronological order. The children appeared and reappeared at different stages. She gasped. There was a picture of Derek and Meredith, with two children. A black-haired boy and a blonde girl. Where was Zola?

She recognized some of the photos, like the one of her sitting on Owen's lap. That was the photo by their bed in the firehouse. Another picture appeared – Cristina was holding a baby that must be Chloe. She was at a birthday party. Standing next to her was Lexie, smiling widely and hugely pregnant.

_Lexie._ Shakily, Cristina sat down. In her reality, Lexie had just died in a plane crash. She knew then that this wasn't her future, but another Cristina's.

"What the hell?" Cristina muttered. "Why am I here?"

**In the Now**

"Here's your tea." Helen handed her a cup, before sitting down across from her. "This is nice, the two of us together."

Cristina couldn't stop looking at her. She'd gained much insight into her own childhood by becoming a mother herself. So many times, she'd wanted to tell Helen how wonderful Chloe was. She'd wanted her mother to know who Mallory and Diego were. But she couldn't tell this Helen any of that, because this wasn't really her mother. She belonged to another Cristina and she didn't have any grandchildren.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Helen asked quizzically.

Cristina coughed. "It's ... been a while since I saw you. What's new in Los Angeles?"

"Oh, the usual," Helen said. "Condo board elections, we're thinking of an Alaskan cruise. My life is boring."

"No it isn't," her daughter blurted out. "Tell me. I want to know everything that's going on with you."

Surprised, Helen smiled. "We're going to redecorate the guest bedroom but we can't agree on colors. Do ... you want to look at fabric swatches?"

"I'd love to." To her surprise, Cristina meant it.

**In the Other**

Sighing heavily, Cristina finished changing Diego's diaper. "I've changed Zola, so I thought this would be easy," she told him. "Only Zola doesn't have a built-in fountain like you do. Next time, don't pee all over me."

Curiously, she examined the scar on his chest. What kind of surgery had been performed? He grinned at her and kicked his feet.

She picked Diego up and he snuggled against her. Dutifully, she sat down and rocked with him, until his eyes started to droop. She laid him down in his crib, then wandered downstairs.

She stood in front of the digital photo frame again, watching the strange photos and trying to determine what had happened. Meredith's daughter appeared to be best friends with Chloe. Owen's mother and Saul were both alive, and active in their life. The girls were in martial arts class. Mallory was into ballet while her sister played soccer. So many of her friends had children – she wondered which ones would appear in her own timeline. She recognized Sofia, but not her little brother.

The pictures of Owen and ... the other Cristina ... fascinated her. It'd been so long since she'd seen her husband relaxed and casual. She barely recognized ... the other Cristina. She was laughing and playing with her children and was she really ... _camping_?

The most poignant pictures were the ones where Owen and Cristina stood side by side, arms around each other or holding hands. They were a team, unlike the shattered marriage she'd somehow left behind.

**In the Now**

After tea and swatches, Helen left Cristina alone so that she could start lunch. Cristina grabbed a laptop and hoped it was hers. When prompted for a password, she entered her father's birth date. She sighed with relief when it worked – some things were the same.

Quickly she skimmed through her emails – people wishing her recovery after the accident, emails from people at the Mayo Clinic about a move? She pulled up a browser and started Googling. It didn't take her long to find details of the crash. She read a few news stories then closed the browser.

Tentatively, she started poking around the emails and folders in the laptop. This Cristina had just passed her Boards ... and was planning on going to the Mayo Clinic. She checked the notes that had been left behind. Stunned, she realized that this other Cristina ... was moving to Minnesota on her own. Without Owen.

**In the Other**

Overwhelmed, Cristina laid down on the couch. Who could she speak with?

"Izzie!" She snapped her fingers and sat up. "If anyone knows about dead people not being dead, it's her." She grabbed her phone and checked her contacts – no Izzie.

There was a notification. Owen had replied to her text, _"Okay, I'll let Derek know and notify daycare"._

She found a laptop computer that accepted her password. Quickly, she checked different social networking sites and couldn't find Izzie there either.

Lips pressed firmly together, she Googled Izzie's name. When the obituary appeared, she read it briefly. Then she looked up her mother's. Reflective, she sat back and processed what she'd found. It was surprisingly devastating, to read of her mother's death. Considering how much work she put into avoiding her mother in her own life.

She looked at her phone. And then read Owen's text again. _"Okay, I'll let Derek know ..."_ Why would Derek need to know she was taking a sick day?

Cristina picked up the laptop again. This time she Googled Owen. He was the Head of Trauma of Seattle Grace. So there'd been no merger. And Derek was the Chief of Surgery.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard. George was still dead. The shootings had happened. And the sinkhole. And the bomb in that guy and the ferry accident and many of the other disasters that Seattle seemed to attract on an annual basis. But the conjoined twins had died after birth so there hadn't been a plane to Boise.

The phone rang, and Meredith's name appeared on the screen. Quickly, she answered. "Hi Meredith."

"I need to keep this brief," her friend said, tersely. "I'm going to cancel our plans for this weekend."

"Um, okay," Cristina replied, frowning.

Meredith sighed. "I've had another ... loss. I'm sorry ... but I can't be around babies right now. I know Diego isn't a little baby anymore but ... I can't."

"I'm sorry," Cristina said, tucking her hair behind her ears. "... Take care of yourself."

"I'll try. Bye." Meredith ended the call.

Her mind whirling, Cristina started to walk around the house again. Diego yelled out for his mother as she walked by his room. She smiled a little as she picked him up and held him. He stuck a thumb in his mouth.

"You're cute," Cristina told him. "But you're not making me miraculously want a child of my own, if that's the reason I'm here."

He blinked at her.

"Auntie Meredith doesn't want to see you. Don't take it personally. And don't take it personally that you're not making me want to be a mom. I like other people's children, like Zola ..."

The room tilted a little bit, as Cristina had a flashback. She was holding Zola, at the disastrous birthday party. Owen entered the house, looking angry. When he saw the two of them, his face had darkened further, and he quickly walked away.

"Does ... does it hurt Owen to see me with Zola?" Cristina felt like she'd been slapped.

"Oh _shit_." She looked at the boy in her arms. "Forget I said that word. Don't repeat it."

He blinked at her again.

"I think you and I should go for a drive," she decided. "Because I'm not going to sit around and _babysit_."

**In the Now**

Tired, Cristina laid down for a nap. She hoped that when she woke up, everything would be back to normal. But she didn't get her wish. Meredith woke her up, when she walked into the bedroom carrying an adorable baby that definitely wasn't Robbie or JoJo.

"Here's Auntie Cristina!" Meredith placed the child on the bed. "Give her a kiss!"

Cristina smiled as the girl bussed her on the cheek. She looked at her friend – limping, no doubt from the accident. She almost offered condolences on Lexie's death, before remembering that the other Cristina had been in the same crash.

"So how are things?" Meredith handed a toy to her daughter.

"Um. Okay." Cristina nibbled on her bottom lip. How could she explain what was really happening? How could she ask Meredith what was going on with Owen?

"Have you made a decision about Mayo yet?"

_Oh crap._ Cristina sighed. "I ... have a lot to consider."

"I'll bet." Her friend frowned. "Well, you know my opinion."

"Uh huh." Nervously, Cristina turned her attention to the little girl. "Oh ... look at ... how big she's getting! How many teeth does she have now?"

Meredith raised her eyebrows. "Since when do you care?"

"Just curious." She looked at the child again. Was she adopted? If not, who could possibly be her father? Jackson? Richard? Burke?

"Are you okay?"

Cristina smiled weakly. "I'm ... not feeling like myself today."

"She really needs to take it easy," Helen said, entering the room with a tea service. "When she woke up, she thought I'd been dead. Then she passed out in the bathroom."

"Oh! I guess we shouldn't stay long then." Meredith accepted a cup of tea.

"And what would your daughter like to drink?" Helen gestured to the child.

"Zola would like some milk – I'll get a sippy cup from her bag." Meredith put down her cup and left the room with Helen.

"Zola, huh?" Cristina's heart sank, looking at the little girl – she remembered when her children were this age. The children that she was desperately missing.

Zola grinned and crawled into her lap. "Why hello, sweetie." Cristina stroked the child's face.

She became aware of someone in the doorway. Owen was standing there, his face stormy as he watched them.

**In the Other**

"Seattle drivers still suck," Cristina muttered, as she drove along. She checked on Diego in the rearview mirror – he was secure in his carseat and enjoying the ride.

Apprehensively, she slowly turned onto a familiar street, and parked in front of the firehouse. Her eyes took in the broken windows, the graffiti on the walls. The place looked even worse than when she'd bought it for her Owen.

Cristina leaned against the steering wheel and began to sob. Her marriage was a wreck, her husband had cheated on her, but she wanted to be back in her own home. Instead she was sitting in a freaking minivan with a child that wasn't hers. Everything around her was just wrong.

**In the Now**

Owen abruptly left the room as Helen and Meredith returned. Cristina tried to keep up with their chatter, but her attention was on the doorway – what had made Owen so angry?

When Zola got fussy, Meredith decided it was time to leave. She leaned over and gently hugged Cristina. "It will be all right," Meredith whispered. "You don't have to stay with him if you don't want to. You'll always have a room in my house."

Confused, Cristina could only wave as Meredith carried her daughter out. Helen picked up the empty tea cups. "If you're okay, I'd like to go for a walk and get some fresh air," her mother said. "Owen is here if you need anything."

"Uh huh." Cristina waited until she heard Helen go downstairs. Slowly, she slid out of the bed and went into the living room. Owen was grimacing at his laptop.

She sat down across from him and wondered what to do next. If this were her Owen, she'd simply ask what was wrong. Their relationship wasn't perfect, but after years of marriage and parenthood, they'd learned how to be more open and honest with each other. She hardly knew this sad man in front of her.

She couldn't bear the silence. "What's wrong?" Cristina asked. "What did I do?"

"Not now," he said. "You're not having a good day. You need to rest."

"You're upset," she retorted. "I don't like seeing you this way."

Owen looked up at her then, surprise softening his features. "I don't want to start a fight," he carefully said. "This isn't the time."

"Then when?"

"I don't know," he quietly confessed. "We have to talk before ... before you decide to go to Mayo and leave me all over again."

Silently, she listened.

"I want you to stay," Owen said gruffly. "You are the only woman I'll ever love. I ... want us to work on our problems. I know you want to walk away because … I cheated on you ... that will _never_ happen again."

Shocked, Cristina sat back.

"We can't pretend it didn't happen," he said, sadly. "We can't pretend that everything in the last year didn't happen."

She stood up, overwhelmed. This wasn't her marriage, she didn't have all the facts, she couldn't get involved. She had to leave the room, get away from this mess. But where?

"You're right," Cristina said, shakily. "Now isn't the time."

"I'm sorry." He stood up to face her. "What do you need? Your pills? A hot pack?"

"A warm bath," she replied, not looking at him. "I think ... that's what I need."

**To be continued...**


	3. Revelation

**In the Other**

Cristina had just put Diego back into his playpen when she heard the school bus out front. Squaring her shoulders, she went to the front door to greet the girls. Hoping she wouldn't scare them by being too different than their own mother.

"Hi Mommy!" Mallory flung her arms around her, before running upstairs. The sweetness of the gesture made Cristina briefly smile. She went into the kitchen and frowned. Would the other Cristina make after-school snacks? She snorted. _I still don't understand why she has kids._

When she came out of the kitchen, with cookies and milk, the girls were in the study, and opening their school books. They'd changed out of their uniforms. She looked at Chloe, decked out in a pink hoodie, and realized whose bedroom was whose.

"Cookies!" Mallory's face lit up. "Thanks!"

"Thank you." Chloe smiled and took a plate.

Curious, Cristina looked over their shoulders at their homework assignments. She was impressed. Both girls were doing advanced work for their ages. She knew if they were her daughters, she'd be bragging about them all the time.

She heard Owen entering the house and froze. If anyone was going to detect a difference in her, it would be him. Apprehensively she watched from the shadows as he entered the living room. He reached down and picked up Diego, as the girls ran and wrapped their arms around him. Laughing, he hugged them back.

The sight of Owen felt like a punch to the stomach, so forceful that Cristina felt sick. _He's so happy_.

Moving quickly, she went into the bathroom and locked herself inside. She shakily sat down on the floor, leaned back against the door, and began to cry again.

"Cristina?" The other Owen knocked on the door. "You okay?"

She wiped the tears from her face. "I'm still feeling a little sick."

"Want something?"

_I want to go home._ "No."

Silence. "Are you still mad at me?" Owen asked.

_Oh crap, they're fighting too?_ "I'm not mad," Cristina answered carefully. "I'm really not feeling well."

"I could get you some ginger ale and toast?"

She rolled her eyes. No matter what, Owen liked to take care of her. And she knew he'd just pester her until she let him in. "Okay. Thank you."

Slowly, she stood up and left the room, taking a seat on the couch. She weakly smiled when Owen brought her food and ginger ale. He sat down next to her and snagged a piece of toast, before launching into a story from his day.

Cristina was mesmerized by how relaxed this Owen was. She was unable to stop looking at him. His beard had some white in it, his laugh lines were deeper, but this Owen honestly looked younger than her own. His face was animated as he chatted about his latest protégée.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He grinned. "Do I have food in my beard?"

"No." She smiled softly. "I … I've got things on my mind."

He nodded, looking more serious. "Like the keynote address."

"Right," she nodded, trying to remember if she'd seen something about a speech online or on the laptop.

He touched her hand. "I'm sorry I was grouchy last night."

She nibbled her bottom lip. "It's ... okay."

"We really need to get our schedules synced better," he continued. "I don't like only seeing you for a couple of hours each day, if I'm lucky."

"Uh huh." she nodded.

"Do you think...?" He sighed. "Do you think you can talk to Dr Avery and give the keynote address at next year's conference? I know it's a big deal that he asked you, but ..."

"Dr Avery?" Cristina's face lit up. "Dr Harper Avery?"

"Yes, Harper Avery," he nodded, frowning at her reaction. "It makes me happy that he thinks so much of you, you know. You deserve to be the youngest recipient of the Harper Avery award ever."

She smiled. This other reality wasn't entirely bad.

**In the Now**

Cristina stayed in the bath for a long time, trying not to think of her family. She'd never gone so long without speaking with her kids. Even when she was away for business, they'd phone each other or Skype. Just remembering their faces brought tears to her eyes.

And she definitely missed her husband – the warm and happy Owen, who couldn't possibly _cheat _on her. She needed to tell him that he was more important than Harper Avery. She needed to show him that he was her partner in life, she was terribly lonely without him, and she never wanted him to be as … broken ... as the other Owen was.

Wearily, she wiped her eyes. She knew that something terrible had to have happened, for this Owen to stray. She was torn between wanting to know what had occurred, and not wanting to cause him any more pain.

When Cristina left the bathroom, she slightly smiled when she saw the bed. Someone had laid out fresh clothing for her – probably Owen. He would have known she preferred to wear his t-shirts when she didn't feel well. He'd chosen a particular one that was loose enough that she could comfortably get dressed with her sore shoulder.

After she got changed, she emerged from the bedroom. Her mother smiled as she finished setting the table. "Good timing!"

"Thank you for making supper," Cristina said as she took a seat. She smelled the air appreciatively, recognizing smells from her childhood. Her eyes stung as she was reminded how much she missed having her mother in her life.

"Now eat!" Helen placed a plate in front of her, then put down a plate for Owen, and one for herself. Owen slowly took his seat at the table and they began to eat.

"Hey Mom," Cristina said, trying to sound casual. "When was the last time that you had a full check-up?"

Helen shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose I should go yearly, but I've always been in very good health."

"I thought you were seeing someone because of your high blood pressure."

"Ah, he put me on Ramipril and now I'm fine. Nothing to worry about." Helen shrugged.

"But I do worry," Cristina said deliberately. "Have you had any dizziness? Do you ever feel faint?"

Owen raised his eyebrows at Cristina while Helen just chuckled. "My daughter the doctor. I'm fine."

"You know who thinks they're fine until their life changes forever? The patients we see _after_ they've had a major stroke." Cristina put down her utensils. "Promise me that you'll get a full check-up as soon as you get back to LA."

"Cristina..." Her mother put down her own utensils. "Why are you asking me to do this?"

"I just survived a plane crash," Cristina hastily reminded her. "I'm ... reminded now how fleeting life can be." She glanced at Owen, who was staring at her in disbelief.

Helen smiled tenderly. "If it's that important to you, I will."

**In the Other**

After homework and supper, they went to the backyard. Cristina sat on the deck and watched as Owen played with Diego and Mallory.

Chloe sat down next to her with a cross-stitch project. She leaned over and examined the fabric.

"Look at those stitches," Cristina said, approvingly. "Very neat and tidy. You could be a great surgeon." The girl flushed and grinned with pleasure.

Cristina sat back and watched the other Owen. He embodied everything that her Owen could be – happy, open, fulfilled – and wasn't. The differences were staggering. It was like looking at two MRIs, and seeing how gravely wounded her husband was, how much it must hurt Owen to love her. The revelation was excruciating.

Cristina winced. Her husband had crushed her when he cheated on her. But she was well aware that he was deeply wounded himself. Instead of pushing him to talk, to release his pain, she distracted him with sex and played with Zola and sided with Teddy and basically hoped he could get over the abortion on his own. He'd betrayed her as a husband and she'd ... made many mistakes. She'd been self-centred and careless and inattentive. She was nowhere near the wife she could be.

"I think somebody is ready for his bath." Owen grinned as he carried Diego over. "Want me to do the honors?"

She smiled and nodded.

"Then _you _can read to me tonight!" Mallory slipped a small hand into hers, and led her to the living room. Chloe followed, folding up her fabric.

While Cristina settled down on the couch, Mallory pulled a book off of a shelf. She sat down next to her and handed her the book. Cristina smiled to see a book she'd loved in her own childhood. She opened the book to where there was a bookmark, and began to read aloud about a red-haired orphan and her misadventures in the fictional town of Avonlea.

**In the Now**

Propped up in the bed, Cristina read a book, while Helen and Owen took care of the dishes. Her mother came in to say good night, before retiring to the guest room.

Slowly, Owen entered the room and slid the doors shut behind him. Cristina looked at his defeated posture and decided she just couldn't be silent.

She drew in a deep breath. "What's wrong?" Cristina asked. "What did I do?"

"Now?" He unbuttoned his shirt and undid his cuffs.

"I really want to know," she told him sincerely, putting down her book. "Talk to me. What did I do earlier that made you angry?"

Stricken, he looked down and muttered. "You poured love and affection onto Zola."

"What's wrong with that?" She felt helpless. Did the other her hate children? "Why wouldn't I be nice to Meredith's daughter?"

He looked up at her, and she was shocked to see tears in his eyes. "You terminated your pregnancy because you wanted nothing to do with being a mother, and then you act maternal in front of me, every time that you see Zola. Do you not see how that hurts me?"

Stunned, Cristina's hand went to her mouth. Suddenly she understood why this Owen was so distant and their marriage was in ruins.

"It's bad enough that you never, ever, want to hear about my feelings about the abortion," he continued. "You have to rub it into my face that you are capable of being warm and loving with a child, you just didn't want to have _my _child. The child that I wanted and that I was willing to put my career on hold for."

Cristina's eyes filled with tears. This man wasn't her husband ... but he was Owen, and he was in pain, and he needed her.

"Just once, I want you to _see_ how you keep hurting me," Owen said. "Walk away if you must ... choose being a surgeon over being a wife if that's what really makes you happy ... but ... know what you're doing to me."

Cristina flinched. Her own husband could've said some of those words to her. She looked at the devastated man in front of her, waiting for her to say something.

Shakily, she leaned forward. "I see you."

His eyes widened. She sensed that some memories were the same.

Tears ran down her face as she stood up and reached out with her good hand. "I _see_ you."

His mouth trembled, as she placed her hand on his chest.

"I see your pain," she said, softly. She couldn't speak for the other Cristina, but she could vocalize her own feelings. "I'm so sorry."

Owen's composure cracked further. "Why?" He was devastated. "Why did you tell me you were pregnant if you weren't going to keep it?"

"I don't know!" Cristina's hand moved up to caress his face. "I am so sorry, Owen. I see your pain."

He framed her face with his shaking hands. "You have to let me talk about it. It's the only way I can heal."

"Okay." Her voice was hoarse. "I'll listen."

"I know I hurt you too," he told her, fervently. "It wasn't intentional. It was ... subconscious. I'm so sorry. I thought the choking was the worst thing I could ever do and I never meant to hurt you then ... or now ..."

Tears running down her face, she nodded.

"Don't hate me," Owen whispered. "Please."

"I don't hate you," Cristina said, leaning her forehead against his, wrapping her right arm around him. As he poured out his heart, she simply held him close and listened.

**In the Other**

After storytime, Owen put the girls to bed. Hesitantly, Cristina went into the master bedroom. Then she quickly started opening drawers. As soon as she found Owen's t-shirts, she grabbed one and changed into it, before sliding under the covers. Nervously, she laid there and tried to sleep.

The other Owen entered the room and undressed, before joining her under the covers. "You okay?" Owen asked. "You look anxious."

The kindness in his tone got to her. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Hey…" He moved closer and gathered her in his arms. "What's wrong?"

She could only shake her head and cry. She wanted so badly to go home to her husband, to apologize to him, to start making things right. Instead she was trapped in another reality, having to pretend to be someone else.

"Shhh, shhh." Owen held her close and stroked her hair. She clung to him, accepting his comfort, as the tears continued to flow.

"I'm sorry if I'm putting too much pressure on you," he whispered. "I don't want to make you miserable."

She shook her head. "It's not you."

"Then what is it?"

Sighing, she leaned against him. He may not really be her husband, but he was offering warmth and support that she desperately needed.

"I … had a patient this week ..." she slowly said. "You know how patients tell you every single little detail about their private lives?"

"Uh huh."

"This woman … hurt someone very much … her husband. She knew she hurt him, but she didn't realize how much. And then her husband had a one-night stand with some … hoochie in a bar."

"Ouch."

"She tried to forgive him but they were both hurt, and so she left. Then she realized what a terrible wife she was and how deeply she'd hurt him and she wanted to fight for her marriage but wasn't sure if she would ever have the opportunity."

"Okay." Owen stroked her hair. "So … why are _you _crying?"

Cristina blinked. "Um. Well … we seem to be arguing lately ..."

He tilted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I will _never_ cheat on you. We may be arguing but it's not that bad."

She reached up and touched his face, buying time while she tried to figure out what to say. She dimly recalled something from sessions with Dr Wyatt.

"Tell me your side of the story," she said to him. "Tell me what your perspective is on our argument."

Owen nodded. "Well, I'd just finished making reservations for our trip when you told me that Harper Avery called because he needed a speaker at the last minute. You'd already told him 'yes' without talking with me about it ... it made me feel like our family is some sort of accessory in your life, and that your reputation and your career come first. You made a decision that affects our family and you won't discuss it and I'm frustrated."

"I see …" Cristina blinked. "That … makes me sound kind of … cold."

His thumb caressed her cheek. "You're _not_ cold. But you kind of … have trouble balancing career and home life sometimes."

Fresh tears filled her eyes. That was so true in her own reality.

"Look, in the grand scheme of things, it's only a vacation," Owen told her. "I just want to know that the kids and I are a big part of your life and it would be nice if you were more compromising. I know I'm being stubborn about this but it's important to me."

"Okay ..." She considered her next words. How could she make a decision when this wasn't really her life? "Can we sleep on this?"

"Absolutely." He leaned closer and kissed her. His fingers caressed her neck, invitingly. "Unless you don't want to sleep just yet ..."

For a moment, Cristina was tempted. It had been so long since she'd been with a playful and eager Owen … but this wasn't _her_ husband. She drew back a little.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's been a long day and-"

"-and we're both tired," he finished. "We can sleep in tomorrow and be rested for later..."

"Sounds good." She smiled at him. "You're a good husband, you know that?"

"It helps to have a fantastic wife." Owen kissed her one more time, before rolling over to turn off the light. As he settled down on his pillow, he turned to face her one more time.

"How was Diego today?" Owen yawned. "He must've liked having you home."

"He was good. We, uh, had fun together." She lightly coughed. "Who would have ever thought that we'd end up like this? With three children."

He chuckled. "I was definitely surprised when I found you that day, angry that you weren't pregnant."

She lifted her head. "Really?"

"Uh huh. I really didn't know that you were trying. Having a baby was one of your best ideas ever."

Surprised, she turned to stare at the ceiling. She realized that she was never going to understand the other Cristina and the choices she'd made. And she found that it really didn't matter.

Cristina smiled in the dim light. She had to admit, those different choices had led to three children that a mother could be proud of. They didn't feel like they were her children, they didn't make her long for a baby, but they were smart and very charming. It wasn't like they were runny-nosed brats headed for juvenile delinquency and dropping out of school.

_But the other me had better not be in my body, getting it pregnant_, she thought.

"We should go shopping tomorrow," Owen yawned again. "Chloe needs new shoes for camp."

"Uh huh." She closed her eyes, her heart yearning for her own husband. _If only our problems were as simple as a vacation..._

**In the Now**

They were both drained, after Owen was done speaking. Cristina hadn't understood some of what he talked about, like holding her hand and screaming at a birthday party and Teddy laughing with the other Cristina behind his back. But he looked relieved to have poured his heart out to her.

As he got ready for bed, Cristina went into the bathroom one more time. Closing the door after her, she faced the mirror.

"I'm not judging you about the abortion," she told her reflection. "I get that children aren't for everyone, I never thought _I'd_ have three."

Cristina cleared her throat. "I just don't understand how it went so wrong. He's not perfect, but you have a good husband. You could be a really great team if you worked for it. Don't just move to Minnesota without him."

She pointed to her reflection. "And if you're in my body, you'd better not be shipping _my_ kids off to boarding school."

Cristina yawned as she left the bathroom. Sleepily, she got into the bed, as Owen finished changing his clothes. By habit, she reached over and lifted up the blanket on his side of the bed.

He froze in place, surprised. Mentally, she chided herself, for not thinking that they probably weren't sharing a bed. She looked at him … and saw a flicker of hope in his eyes.

Cristina shrugged and patted the bed. He smiled slightly, before slipping under the covers. She reached out and squeezed his shoulder, reassuringly, before drifting off to sleep.

oOoOo

She moved through the grey mists again. There was nothing to show her the way, but she sensed she was going where she belonged.

A figure stepped out of the mist. She looked at the other her, and they nodded at each other, before moving on.

**In the Other**

Cristina slowly woke up, wrapped up in Owen's arms. She blinked, trying to remember what felt like a dream. There had been a thick fog and she had been lost in it. And her mother had been there.

"Good morning!" Mallory ran into the room. "Can we have French toast?"

Owen mumbled and pulled Cristina closer. "Can you give us a few moments?"

"Okay!" She ran out of the room.

Cristina turned and looked at Owen. She had the feeling that there was something she needed to say to him.

"Screw the conference," she blurted out. "I promised we'd have a family vacation, we'll have one."

He grinned. "I was thinking, we could all go to Massachusetts instead. You can give your speech and then we can go driving up the coast for a week?"

She shook her head. "No speech. I'll put my career on hold for a week and we'll take our trip as agreed. As long as I don't have to sleep in a tent."

His eyes twinkled. "I booked us some cabins."

Cristina chuckled. "How about next year, we'll go to New Zealand like you've always wanted to? I'll take _two _weeks off of work if we'll stay in _nice_ hotels. No cottages or tents."

He kissed her. "I like _that_."

She reached up and touched his face. "I love you."

Smiling, he kissed her again, his beard scratchy against her face. "I love you too."

"Ew." Chloe entered the room, with Diego toddling behind her.

Laughing, Cristina sat up. "That's why you're supposed to knock." She held out her arms and Diego climbed up into her embrace. "Hello little dude." Yawning, Chloe sat down next to her and leaned against her.

Mallory stuck her head in. "_Now_ can we have breakfast?"

Owen groaned and sat up. "Sure. Who wants cereal?"

"French toast!" Their younger daughter jumped on the bed. "Cereal is boring!"

"Cereal is awesome!" Cristina kissed the top of Diego's head and chuckled. She looked at her family, gathered on the bed, and tilted her head. Again she felt like she was forgetting something, something that happened in a dream. Something that reminded her that she was enriched by her family, not burdened by them.

"You okay?" Owen was watching her closely.

"I'm good," she smiled. "Let's go have breakfast."

**In the Now**

The ache in her shoulder woke Cristina up. Groggily, she sat up. Her heart leaped to see Owen sleeping soundly beside her.

She blinked. She had the sensation of wanting to tell Owen something, something that might have happened in a dream.

Minding her shoulder, she inched closer to Owen until she was lying next to him. Gently, she rubbed his chest until he woke up. He smiled a little and pulled her closer. "How's your shoulder?"

"It's feeling a bit better." She curled up against him. "Owen … would you be willing to move to Minnesota?"

"I would." His eyes flickered with hope.

"Okay." She drew in a deep breath. "I want to save our marriage."

He tightened his arm around her. "I want that too."

"We can be an awesome team, you and I." She gripped his t-shirt. "I am so sorry for how I avoided talking about everything. I am so sorry I cut you out of the decision making. I'm so sorry that I hurt you."

"Cristina…" He kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry for being an ass. For not talking, either. Then blowing up. And cheating."

"I'm going to be a better wife and partner," she promised him. "And we've got to find another therapist. A good one."

"We'll keep searching until we find the right one." He sighed. "I love you. I have to talk about everything that happened, but always know that I love you."

"I'll listen to everything you say," she vowed. "And I have some things that you need to hear, even if you don't want to. But know that I love you and I want us to make this work."

"Okay." Shyly, he kissed her, his beard scratching her face. They were interrupted by a knocking on the door.

Cristina sat up. "Come in, Mom." She smiled as her mother entered the room, carrying a cup of tea. "Thank you."

"I'll start warming up a hot pack." Owen leaped out of the bed.

"And I'll get you a breakfast tray," Helen said.

"No, no, sit," Cristina said. She patted the bed next to her. "I have something I want to tell you."

Smiling, her mother sat down.

"I really appreciate you coming here," Cristina told her. "You put your life on hold to take care of me and I'm grateful."

"You're welcome." Helen patted her cheek. "Now go freshen up while I get your food."

Chuckling, Cristina slid out of bed and went into the bathroom. She glanced up at the mirror and paused. Again there was the sensation of forgetting a dream. She frowned at her reflection and didn't know why. She looked the same as always – who was she expecting to see?

When she returned to the bedroom, Owen was waiting, with the hot pack and her breakfast tray. She couldn't take her eyes off of him as he helped her get settled again – something about him seemed lighter, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

"We're going to make this work, aren't we?" Cristina asked.

He smiled before briefly touching her face. "Yes. We are."

"Good." She took his hand. "That's what I really want."


End file.
